


overture

by sarahyyy



Category: S.C.I.谜案集 | S.C.I. Mystery (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Meddling, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 11:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16515905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: “Does Xiao Zhan know that you’re in love with him?”Yutong lookshorrifiedat Qingtang’s words, and for a second, Qingtang almost thinks that Yutong is going to deny it, or worse, that Yutong hasn’t even figured it out for himself.Thankfully, all Yutong ends up saying is, “Of coursehe doesn’t know! Why would he know?” His eyes narrow and then widen almost comically in quick succession. “Did you tell him? Did someone tell him?”





	overture

It’s not like she wants to care about it, okay? She’s Bai Qingtang — she’s got things to do, people to meet, places to be, and she really doesn’t have time for this.

And honestly, she should walk away from this whole mess, because it’s not like she thinks that she’s going to be any good at relationship advice to begin with, but it’s hard to actually do that when she can so clearly see the forlornness in her brother’s eyes, and the way his lips are almost set in a pout, as Zhan Yao beams at one of the visiting academicians he is in the middle of a conversation with. 

Qingtang sighs, and starts crossing the room. 

She may not have any grand advice to give Yutong, but any advice would be better than no advice, right?

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, when she reaches him, handing him a glass of wine, and leans against the wall, knocking their shoulders together. “You look like you’re about to march over there and start a fight.”

Yutong scowls at that. “No, I don’t,” he says. “I’m just irritable because I’m tired.”

“Then leave,” Qingtang says, smirking. “No-one is making you stay.”

“Dad-”

“Dad knows us very well, which is why he should be expecting at least one of us to already be in the process of ditching the party,” Qingtang finishes smoothly. “If you’re tired, I’ll take one for the team and stay a bit longer. You can sneak out first.”

“I can’t just _leave_ ,” Yutong huffs out, and, out of the kindness of her heart, Qingtang keeps her mouth shut instead of pointing out that it’s the exact sort of thing that he’s pulled at least a dozen times before. Yutong is quiet for a long beat, and then, almost as if he can’t keep it in, “Zhan Yao is still here.”

Qingtang can feel the corner of her lips curl, and does nothing to suppress it. “So? Take him with you.”

“He’s enjoying himself,” Yutong says, frustration clear in his voice. “Zhan shu-shu invited a couple of his friends from America. Zhan Yao says they’re quite well-known in the field. I think he’s a fan of one of the professors.”

Qingtang snorts. “Does he know?”

Yutong finally turns to look at her. “Does who know what?”

“Does Xiao Zhan know that you’re in love with him?”

Yutong looks _horrified_ at Qingtang’s words, and for a second, Qingtang almost thinks that Yutong is going to deny it, or worse, that Yutong hasn’t even figured it out for himself. She’s not sure what the appropriate reaction would be, then — should she laugh at him, or should she punch him for being oblivious?

Thankfully, all Yutong ends up saying is, “ _Of course_ he doesn’t know! Why would he know?” His eyes narrow and then widen almost comically in quick succession. “Did you tell him? Did someone tell him?”

Qingtang sighs. She’d thought that maybe her baby brother would be less stupid. Clearly that was asking for too much. “You should tell him.”

“Of course not!” comes Yutong’s very vehement reply. 

“What’s wrong with telling him?” she asks. 

“What’s wrong with not telling him?” Yutong fires back. “We’re great just the way we are now.”

“You’re happy being like this? Just being in love with him from the sideline? That doesn’t seem like your usual style.” Qingtang says dubiously. “What’s going to happen when someone catches his eye?”

“Who’s going to?” Yutong asks, and here, he looks so unbothered, like he knows with certainty that it isn’t going to happen, that no-one is ever going to be good enough to spark any kind of romantic interest in Zhan Yao. Qingtang’s not exactly sure that Yutong’s wrong on that front. “Even _I_ don’t catch his eye.”

Qingtang snorts at that. “That ego on you,” she admonishes gently.

“It’s hereditary,” Yutong says with a smirk. “I learnt that off you, I’m pretty sure.”

“You should still think about telling him,” she tells him after a beat. And then thinks, _fuck it_. She loves Zhan Yao, but Yutong is her brother by blood; she should be on his side first and foremostly. “While you have the chance to.”

Yutong’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Qingtang’s held off telling him about the conversation she overheard between their father and Zhan shu-shu awhile back, thinking that it’s something that he should hear from Zhan Yao instead, but it’s been a couple of weeks now, and Yutong hasn’t thrown a tantrum or had a complete meltdown yet, so there’s no way that Yutong already knows. And knowing Zhan Yao, he’ll probably put off telling Yutong about it until he absolutely cannot avoid it. 

Like when he’s on the plane. 

Like when he gets _off_ the plane. 

She sighs again, and prepares herself for a very long weekend. 

“Xiao Zhan is leaving for New York soon,” she finally tells Yutong, looking him straight in the eye. 

Yutong blinks. “Like, on a vacation?” he asks, and it’s only because she’s his sister, because she’s actively _looking_ for it, that she hears the quiver in his voice. 

“No, Yutong, not like on a vacation,” she says as kindly as she is able to. 

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. 

Qingtang doesn’t push him to talk about his feelings, doesn’t really think she’ll know how to deal with it if he does, so it’s probably for the best that when he finally breaks the silence, it’s only to say, “You know what? I think I will leave now.”

She nods at Yutong, and then fishes her car keys out of her purse. “It’s new,” she tells him, passing the keys to him. “I don’t really care for it.”

That, at least, coaxes a smile out from Yutong, even if it doesn’t really reach his eyes. 

Qingtang’s heart aches for her silly little brother. 

“Tell Zhan Yao I’ve left so he doesn’t look around for me,” he says in parting, and then he’s out the side door.

—

Yutong returns her car in one piece, which is a blessing. Not because she cares much about the car, but because it means that Yutong doesn’t return with any injuries.

“Feel better now?” Qingtang asks, when Yutong just throws himself onto her bed, face-down. 

“No,” comes Yutong’s muffled reply. “I feel _worse_.” 

Qingtang winces. 

Fast cars usually solve all of Yutong’s problems, but considering this is _Zhan Yao_ that she’s attempting to replace with a sports car, she can see why it’s not working. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks. 

“Not really,” Yutong mumbles. 

He’s silent for awhile, and Qingtang lets the silence draw out, choosing to settle on the edge of the bed, carding her fingers through Yutong’s hair in what she hopes is a soothing manner. She’s never really been all that good at providing comfort. Or advice. Or conversation in general. It’s a good thing that she knows that Yutong has never really been the kind to stew in silence for long.

Yutong manages to keep it all in for a good five minutes, and then he tugs at the sleeves of her pajamas. “Jie,” he whines, “it _hurts_.”

“What hurts?” Qingtang asks. 

“My heart _aches_ ,” Yutong tells her. “I keep thinking about it, about him leaving, and everything hurts. He hasn’t even left yet, and my heart already aches. What am I going to do when he actually leaves?” He blinks at her, lost. “Da-jie, what am I going to do when Zhan Yao leaves?” he asks again. 

The misery on his face is clear, and Qingtang wants so badly to hurt Zhan Yao for making Yutong hurt so much; if she didn’t love Zhan Yao almost as well as she does Yutong, she would. 

Most people think it’s a laughable notion that Zhan Yao doesn’t know about Yutong’s feelings for him, and if Qingtang didn’t know Zhan Yao, she might think so too. But Zhan Yao would never do that to Yutong, regardless of whether he returns Yutong’s feelings. 

It’s very likely that they’re both just being incredibly stupid.

“Tell Xiao Yao,” she says firmly. “Tell him you’re in love with him. Tell him you don’t want him to go.” 

“But I _do_ want him to go,” Yutong cries out. He lets out a bitter laugh. “I want him to go because he _wants_ to go.” 

“Oh, Yutong,” Qingtang says.

“I want him to be _happy_ ,” Yutong continues. “I want that more than anything, and I just wish… I just wish I wasn’t selfish enough to be so upset that he’s chosen to leave. I wish I was happy for him. I wish I could congratulate him on getting into that programme. I wish…” he trails off, and then, Jesus Christ, swipes at his eyes. 

Qingtang cannot remember the last time she saw Yutong cry. 

“Da-jie,” Yutong whispers, “I wish he loved me back.”

—

Zhan Yao barely catches the thin envelope that Qingtang throws at him.

“What’s this?” he asks, peering curiously at it. 

He gives it a little shake, and it reminds Qingtang so much of the competition Zhan Yao and Yutong both used to have during the Christmas season, where they would try to guess what presents they got. 

Zhan Yao had always won, even though Qingtang knew for a fact that Yutong’d cheated every single year by unwrapping his presents in the middle of the night just to see what they were. 

She had asked him one year why he always chose to flub one of his answers, and all Yutong had done was to shrug and say, “He likes winning. I do as well, but I like _him_ more.”

It was then that she had realised that the only reason why he bothered cheating was to make sure that he never accidentally got all his answers right — he had to do everything in his power to make sure Zhan Yao would win. 

“What do you think it is?” Qingtang asks, and then flops down onto the couch gracelessly. 

“Concert tickets,” Zhan Yao is quick to answer. 

It’s a good guess, considering the weight and the thickness of the envelope, and the fact that he was just telling Qingtang about this touring orchestra he liked a couple of days ago. 

“Nope,” Qingtang says, and Zhan Yao immediately frowns, holding the envelope up against the light so he can try to see through it. It’s for this exact reason that she used a premium heavyweight manila envelope. “It’s a going away gift, but like, a useful one.”

Zhan Yao stills, and then heaves out a long, resigned sigh. “You already know,” he murmurs, sitting down next to Qingtang.

“Mm hmm,” Qingtang hums. “I also told Yutong.”

Zhan Yao’s gaze snap to hers. “ _Da-jie_ ,” he says, horrified.

“Look, I waited for you to tell him yourself, alright?” she tells him. “I’ve known for weeks.”

“I…” Zhan Yao looks away again. “I wasn’t sure how to tell him,” he says quietly. 

“And then you figured the longer you put it off, the less time you’ll have to spend dealing with Yutong’s outburst,” Qingtang finishes for him. “When were you going to tell him?”

“When I got there,” Zhan Yao mutters, honest as always, and it makes Qingtang smile despite herself.

“You are very stupid for someone who is so smart, you know?” She sighs and pats him on the knee. “You know Yutong better than anyone else. You know he sees you more as family than as just a friend. I do as well. Did you think we wouldn’t be incredibly upset with you if you left without saying a word?” she admonishes. 

“I’m sorry, da-jie,” Zhan Yao says. “I’ll talk to Yutong.” 

“Good,” Qingtang says firmly, and stands up. “Xiao Yao.”

Zhan Yao looks up at her. “Hmm?” 

“The both of you have always been very close,” Qingtang tells him, and prays to the heavens that at least some of what she’s going to tell him will make sense, “and you should know by now that Yutong sees you… _differently_ from how he sees anyone else. You mean a lot to him. You understand that, right?”

Zhan Yao nods at her, but doesn’t otherwise say anything. 

Qingtang physically can’t tell if Zhan Yao is getting her hints, but if she has to wager a guess, she would say the chances are pretty slim. She wants to do more, to say more, but... 

It is something that he should only hear from Bai Yutong directly. 

Soon. If she has anything to do with it. 

She loves both her dumbass brothers, and if she has to bully Yutong into confronting his feelings and gathering the courage to tell Zhan Yao about it, then, well, she’ll consider it her good deed of the year. It’s what sisters do, right?

Satisfied, she starts making her way out.

“Da-jie,” Zhan Yao says, before Qingtang reaches the door. “It’s a cheque, isn’t it?”

Qingtang smiles, and keeps walking. 

—

“What’s wrong?” Qingtang finally asks, ten minutes into Yutong coming into her room and proceeding to stare out her window like he’s in a bad idol drama. “I thought you went out for lunch with Xiao Yao?”

“Uh huh,” Yutong says. “He told me about New York.”

Good. “What did he say?”

“That he’s leaving in two weeks,” Yutong tells her, and Qingtang barely suppresses a wince. 

“And?” Qingtang prods. “What did you say?”

“I wished him good luck?” Yutong tells her shiftily.

Oh, no.

“ _And_?”

Yutong grimaces. “And then I said I needed to use the bathroom. And then I left the restaurant.”

Oh, Yutong.

“Oh, you dumbass.” Qingtang picks up her phone and dials Zhan Yao’s number. “Xiao Yao?” she says when Zhan Yao picks up. “I hope you’re not still waiting for him. The idiot is with me.”

Zhan Yao huffs out a self-deprecating laugh. “Da-jie, I don’t think he’s taking it too well.”

Qingtang snorts. “He’s not,” she tells him. “I’ll sort him out, and make him go over to your house with gifts to apologise tomorrow.” 

“Da-jie!” Zhan Yao says in a rush before Qingtang is able to hang up. “It’s not- I’m not- I’m not happy about leaving him behind. He… He knows that, right?”

Qingtang sighs. “He should.” And then, just before she hangs up, “I’ll make sure he does.”

Yutong stares miserably at Qingtang’s phone when she puts it on the table, as if he could will Zhan Yao into appearing right in front of him if he wished for it hard enough. 

God, her brother really is a dumbass. 

“You really are a dumbass,” she tells him. “He leaves in two weeks. Even if you’re not going to tell him that you’re in love with him, don’t you think that the priority right now would be to spend as much time as possible with him?” She puts her hand up when he opens his mouth to speak. “Don’t even try denying that you’ve been avoiding Xiao Zhan the last few days. If he hadn’t come by to drag you out for lunch, when would you go to him? Just as he’s leaving to go to the airport?”

“I was just trying to adapt to life without Zhan Yao,” Yutong says miserably. 

“And how’s that going for you, hmm?” 

“It’s terrible,” Yutong says, with feeling. 

“He’s not leaving forever, you know that, right?” she asks him. “And you can visit whenever you like, you know that too, right?”

“I _know_ ,” Yutong snaps. And then, gentler, “I know. It’s just...not going to be the same, and I hate it. He’s going to have a whole other life over there, new lifestyle, new friends, new hobbies, maybe even a new relationship, and I… I...”

Qingtang smacks Yutong on the back of his head. “Even _you_ don’t catch his eye,” she says firmly, repeating the words Yutong had said to her a couple of days ago. “Who else is going to?”

“I just keep thinking that… The reason why no-one’s ever sparked his interest is because I’ve always been there to demand his attention. _Look at me, Zhan Yao. Pay attention to me, Zhan Yao._ How would he have found the time to actually look at anyone else?” Yutong scrubs a hand over his face. “But he’s leaving now, and I’m not going to be with him, and maybe… Maybe he’ll realise what I’ve been doing the entire time, maybe a couple of new friends in, he’ll realise just how annoying and clingy I am. God, if he comes back and we’re not the same, it would break me. I don’t want to lose him, da-jie.”

“Do you have so little faith in Xiao Zhan?” Qingtang asks quietly. “Do you think so little of the strength of your relationship?”

Yutong crumbles at that, sinks into the armchair by the window. “I hate this. I _hate_ that he wants to leave.” 

“Not enough to ask him to stay,” Qingtang says lightly. 

“That would only make him miserable.” Yutong leans back, closes his eyes. “He hates it here, hates having to stay under one roof with Zhan shu-shu. He’s so excited about leaving, da-jie. I can’t take that away from him.”

Qingtang hums. “Have you considered-”

“Going with him?” Yutong finishes. He lets out a sad laugh. “I haven’t _stopped_ thinking about it since you told me about it at the party, but you should’ve seen him, da-jie. He’s not saying it, but he’s so excited by the idea of this newfound independence. I can’t just...go with him and ruin the experience for him.”

“You keep...thinking about how Xiao Yao would feel if you make a certain move. You keep considering things from his perspective. When are you going to think about yourself?” she asks, frowning.

“How I feel is less important, da-jie, you know that. You know all I want is for Zhan Yao to be happy.” He sighs in frustration. “I’m not...trying to stop him from leaving, I understand why he would want to, and I’m not even upset that he is. I’m just… _so angry_ at myself for not being able to be happy for him.” 

Qingtang goes to him, ruffles his hair gently, and then gives in to the urge and just pulls him into a hug. “Oh, Yutong, you really do love him, don’t you?” 

Yutong huffs out a laugh. “It’s a real shame that even I don’t catch his eye, huh?” 

—

“I...keep having this feeling that there’s something else going on that no-one is really letting me in on,” Zhan Yao says, sitting in the middle of suitcases and cardboard boxes, when Qingtang goes to see him at his place. “Will you tell me why Yutong is so upset about me leaving?”

Qingtang sighs. “My darling, darling Xiao Yao, I honestly wish I could.”

Zhan Yao peers at her curiously. “Did he tell you not to?”

“More like, it’s not really my place to say,” Qingtang says. “It should come from Yutong.”

Zhan Yao’s eyes narrow. “What if I guess?” he asks. “You won’t have to tell me. You just have to confirm if I’ve guessed right. Would that be acceptable?”

Oh.

 _Oh._

Why did she never think of this? Zhan Yao loves puzzles, and he loves winning; Qingtang doesn’t even need to do anything more than to just dangle the answer out of his reach to motivate him into figuring things out for himself. 

“You really are too clever for your own good,” she tells him fondly. “I accept.”

“Is he upset about me putting off telling him about New York until now?” Zhan Yao asks. 

“There’s a little of that, I suppose,” Qingtang says, “I reckon he would’ve liked to have known right from the start, maybe when you were applying for it, but that’s not it.” 

Zhan Yao frowns. “Is it...about me leaving at all?”

Qingtang smiles. “Yes, and no,” she tells him. 

“It’s about me leaving, but also not about me leaving,” Zhan Yao murmurs to himself, and then goes quiet for a long moment.

Qingtang can see the cogs in his brain move, trying to work out the problem, trying to arrive at an a reasonable answer. She knows the exact moment the answer comes to him from the slight widening of his eyes, from the way his lips part in excitement at figuring the answer out.

She thinks she’s starting to understand Yutong’s fascination of looking at Zhan Yao. 

“He’s...upset about being upset that I’m leaving,” Zhan Yao concludes. When Qingtang doesn’t doesn’t contradict his findings, he splutters. “Really? _Really_? God, da-jie, he’s so stupid.”

That makes Qingtang laugh. “You’re only halfway there, Xiao Yao,” she tells him. “He’s upset about being upset that you’re leaving. Now tell me why this would be so.”

“He wants to be happy for me,” Zhan Yao says simply. “But he’s also annoyed that I am leaving at the same time. He needs time to reconcile those two emotions.”

“Correct in part,” Qingtang says. “He’s not annoyed that you’re leaving. He’s sad. Go from there.”

Zhan Yao blinks at her. “He’s...sad that I’m leaving, because I’ve always been here, I’ve never left his side.”

Qingtang hums in approval. “Keep going.”

“He’s sad because if I leave, he’ll be alone. No, no, that’s not Yutong. He’s worried that I’ll be alone if I leave, he’s sad at the thought of me being alone.” Zhan Yao stares at her. There is something akin to soft wonder in his eyes, and Qingtang almost wants to _sigh_ at the thought that this is a fact that Zhan Yao is just finding out. “He really cares about me a lot, da-jie.”

“Yes, you dumbass,” Qingtang says fondly. 

“ _Oh_.”

—

Neither Yutong nor Zhan Yao talk to her about it, but it’s evident from the looks they keep sneaking at each other during dinner at the Bai household that they have exchanged words since Qingtang spoke to Zhan Yao earlier. 

Yutong is looking more jittery than usual; he’s eating more, almost stuffing his face, making sure that he doesn’t leave his mouth empty for long enough that he’ll have to make much conversation. At one point, when Zhan Yao laughs over something Qingtang’s mum has said, she could’ve sworn that Yutong physically shoved half a bowl of rice into his mouth, just to keep himself from accidentally blurting out to everyone present that he’s in love with Zhan Yao. 

Zhan Yao is doing better, but only just barely. The two of them have always been free with physical touches —a pat on Yutong’s hand to get his attention, a quick nudge of their shoulders together to remind Yutong of something, a quick swipe of food off Yutong’s face with his thumb if Zhan Yao has to— but Zhan Yao seems to hold back tonight. 

There’s no way, considering how the both of them are acting, that they’ve managed to hammer out all the issues between them. Qingtang is willing to bet that they haven’t even touched on the subject of Yutong’s (most likely not) unrequited love for Zhan Yao yet. 

She sighs the eighth time she catches Zhan Yao drawing his hand back abruptly where he’s midway through reaching out for Yutong, and picks up her phone. 

Never let it be said that she, Bai Qingtang, doesn’t dote on her stupid brothers. 

—

**BONUS:**

“Your flight is still next Tuesday, right?” Yutong asks from where he’s perched on Zhan Yao’s desk, watching him deliberate over which books he wants to pack and ship off to New York with him. “At 11pm?”

Zhan Yao hums in agreement, not looking at Yutong. He’s frowning over two tomes in his hand, and Yutong can tell that they are the exact same book, only different prints. He wants to laugh over how silly Zhan Yao is being, but _can’t_ , because he’s so fucking gone for Zhan Yao that even this is endearing to him. 

“I’m sending you off to New York,” he tells Zhan Yao. It’s what he came here to say today. 

“Of course you’ll send me off,” Zhan Yao says loftily. “Who’ll carry my bags to the airport for me if you don’t?”

Yutong snorts. “You only love me for the manual labour I carry out for you,” he grumbles half-heartedly. And then, more seriously, “I mean, I have a plane ticket. And I think your flight was upgraded as well so we can both fly first class.”

That catches Zhan Yao’s attention, and he turns over to stare at Yutong. “What?”

“Da-jie,” Yutong says in explanation, and then shrugs. “I don’t mind. I said I’d send you off. I might as well do it all the way.”

Zhan Yao blinks. “You’re coming with me?” he asks. 

Yutong feels the back of his neck heat, and he rubs a hand over it. “Just for long enough to make sure you’re not living in a dump, talk to a couple of your neighbours so they don't think they can bully you. Probably should also run some security checks on the neighbourhood,” he babbles. 

Zhan Yao is still staring at him, not speaking, and Yutong is suddenly struck with the fear that he’s exposed himself, that there’s absolutely no way Zhan Yao isn’t able to tell that Yutong is in love with him. 

“Da-jie’s orders,” he croaks out. 

“Right,” Zhan Yao says softly, but he doesn’t look convinced. He’s silent for another moment before he cracks a smile. 

He’s beautiful. 

Yutong is so in love with him it hurts. 

“It’s good that you’re coming,” Zhan Yao says easily, and Yutong could drown in the fondness in Zhan Yao’s eyes. Maybe he really needs to have that chat with Zhan Yao, maybe da-jie was right in saying that all he needs to do is to just blurt his feelings out for Zhan Yao. “Who else is going to carry my bags for me when I land if you don’t come with me?”

Yutong ducks his head and laughs. 

It’s a long flight — he’s got time.

**Author's Note:**

> ETA: [follow-up drabble #1 - bed-sharing](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com/post/179988561738/because-thewickling-sent-me-a-very-timely).
> 
> This..........took way longer than I expected it would. There will probably be a couple of follow-up drabbles that I will put up on tumblr over the next couple of days, because I've written them, but we vetoed it from the actual fic. :)
> 
> As usual, I am [here on Tumblr](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com/), come say hi! :D


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